Finish Line
by Lost1n7heDark
Summary: Faith has been gone for a while, but now she's coming home. Home to chaos and disaster. Can she save the world and most of all, save herself? Set after Season 7, eventual B/F pairing. Enjoy and review!
1. Chapter 1

**Hello all, it's good to finally be starting a new fic; quite refreshing, actually. Hopefully I'll be updating this more quickly than the last, though with upcoming finals, I'm not sure how well that will go. We shall see. In any case, I promise not to quit! This is, of course, a Faith-based fic with some Buffy loving. **

**I do hope you enjoy and please please please review!**

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For the fourth time this month - and it's only the 18th - she sits in the same fucking chair, listening to the same fucking sounds, for the same fucking thing.

Life is getting to be a little monotonous, and it isn't biding well. Not for her.

"Faith Lehane?"

Lehane. Some name she stole off some book she'd read some time ago. Some some some. She isn't even Irish, but she just took it anyway. Mostly because she didn't know what she was. She just knew she wasn't Irish. But she knew she liked to drink, and it was a common stereotype among the Irish so she claimed herself an honorary Irishman. Woman. Whatever. So Lehane it was.

"Yea." She replies with a sigh.

Standing up, she follows the nurse, a mid-weight and jovial old lady, to the same room she had been in the last time. And as always, the nurse tells her she could sit and make herself comfortable, though nothing about this was at all near comfort. She knows the drill. Take off the jacket, let them check the blood pressure, your breathing, your heart, your bowels, your reflexes, your throat, your nasal cavities, your eyesight, your ear canals...the basics. Then wait for the professional to get their ass in here to suck a part of your life into a tube for tests.

Going to the doctor felt a lot like offering yourself to a vampire, but she could never explain that to these people, could she?

She couldn't explain that to anyone around here.

"It's good to see you again, Faith." Dr. Lynn Collins smiles genuinely at her. She sometimes thinks her doctor is a better friend to her than the ones she left behind.

"Can't really say I feel the same about being here, but it's always good to see **you**, too." Flirt a little. As if it'd make the news less crushing.

Dr. Collins chuckles lightly, shaking her head while she reads over the notes. Her smile simmers and turns grim.

"Alright, well. Looks like things aren't going so well, huh?"

She guesses one could say that.

"I guess one could say that."

"Have you been experiencing any dizziness? Any extreme cases of nausea? Vomiting?"

"Since the last time?"

"Yes."

She remembers two times, and saw remnants of the third time the next morning when she woke up on the bathroom floor.

"Twice that I remember."

"That you remember?"

"Third time, I just woke up in front of the toilet, which was full of the nasties, and I don't mean number two."

The doctor frowns, and jots it down before looking up.

"And you weren't-"

"No. I haven't been drunk since I found out."

In all honesty, she hadn't particularly left her apartment since she'd found out. She walked out and drove to work, to work out, and to Slay; which was just more work. She stopped talking to the people she knew around town, which made no difference, since she wasn't close to anyone anyways. She stopped going out to party, to get wasted, or to fuck someone. She stopped everything except work. Almost. She hasn't stopped smoking, yet. It was her vice. It still is.

"Listen..." Dr. Collins' voice softens.

"I know. You tell me every time I come here. But I just..." She struggles with words.

"I just can't. I told you, hospitals and I don't work well together."

What an understatement. Hospitals make her want to scream. So sterile yet full of death, death, and more death. Death that **she** couldn't prevent.

"I understand. I'm just worried. At this month of your condition, most patients can't even function correctly, much less move." It never ceases to amaze the doctor that she is still up and running.

"And I still function like I'm in the first phase, I know, I know." She knows, she's heard it all before.

"Not anymore. Your recent blood tests show that your treatments are beginning to be resisted."

"So commencing stage two." She'd been wondering how long it would take. Six months. It took six months. By now, others who had been diagnosed at the same time as she was would be crippled at stage four. Apparently.

"Unfortunately. We're going to have to increase the dosage, or possibly try a stronger treatment."

"Stronger dosage first, then if that doesn't work, stronger treatment?"

"Basically. You've got it down pat."

"I'm a fast learner."

Dr. Collins writes something down, then hands it to her.

"I want to see you in two days and give you your shot. You know what to do."

Hand the slip to the lady at the counter, smile, tell her the best time to come next, say thank you and goodbye. She knows.

She walks outside and breathes in deep. She wonders if she should be appreciating all the little things in the world, or if she should be hurling insults at the God who seems to have a twisted sense of humor. She does neither and steps casually towards her car. It's hard to step lively, and her worn down boots don't allow her to drag her feet, anyway. She lights a cigarette at the same time she turns the key to her engine. As she drives off, she can't help but think.

Somehow, everything hard in life has suddenly been the easy thing all along.


	2. Chapter 2

**Ah, thank you all for reviewing. Here's the second chapter, I hope you enjoy!**

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**Two Days Later**

"Ready?"

"Yea."

They stick the needle in. She feels the pressure of the fluid being forced inside, into a tiny vein where the treatment would be spread across her body, in an attempt to save.

"All finished."

She rolls down her sleeve and flashes a small smile at the nurse.

"Thanks."

"Of course, honey. Just remember to-"

"Schedule the next appointment, I know." If she sounded snappy, she didn't mean to. She only wants to get out of there as soon as possible. These places freak her out.

"Wait in line, please." An attendant says sharply, as she walks out of the doctoring area and into the waiting area. She just nods briskly and takes a seat, waiting for the line to check out to dwindle.

As she watches the clock reach 10PM, her eyelids start to flutter. Increase in dosage, indeed. Not to mention her tiring job and weakening body. One she tries to keep in shape every day, even though she knows it's a rather futile thing to do. It irritates her to no end, how tired she gets by the end of the day. Sometimes too tired to Slay, even.

Damn. Is that line getting longer?

No, it's shorter, and it's just her imagination.

She shuts her eyes tightly, because Vertigo threatens to take over her mind and she doesn't want that at all.

"Why didn't you tell me?" That voice. Is she imagining that, too?

"Faith." A touch. It can't be...

Her eyes open. Wide. She turns to face the face of the voice of the hand on her shoulder.

"Angel?"

"Yes?"

It really is him. She wonders if he'll disappear if she reaches out and touches him. Who the fuck is she kidding? He's no mirage. Mirages don't occur in hospital waiting rooms, for God's sake!

"What in the name of Hell are you doing here?"

He doesn't want to give a small smile, but she always had that ability to lure it out of him, whether she meant to or not.

"Talking to you, actually."

She closes her eyes and turns her head back and slumps more comfortably before smirking.

"Smartass."

"Seems you're the one who outsmarted all of us. This where you been the last two years?"

She flinches slightly at the hint of accusation in his voice. But she answers accordingly. With no tremor, no guilt.

"No. This is just where I ended."

"Ah." He says, and nothing more. They just stay there like that until it's her turn to make her appointment.

One week?

Okay. One week.

She doesn't say a word - she doesn't even look at him - and walks out the doors.

He does what she desperately wants him **not** to do.

He follows.


	3. Chapter 3

**Oh come on, I'm sure you can afford to leave me more reviews than that! :) How am I supposed to know if you like it or not? I'm just playing. Kind of. Enjoy and review!**

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She took the bus to the clinic today, thinking she would save some gas. Now she regrets it.

She would wait for the bus, if he wasn't there to loom over her like a dead man. Pun slightly intended. So she walks. She keeps walking, past the buildings, past the bus stops, past the bums in the corners and the drugstores with the neon lights. And he keeps following; never calling out her name, never running after her. Just walking just like she's walking. God be damned.

She stops. Her fists clench.

He notices.

"What do you want, Angel? I left for a fucking reason."

"One that I obviously wasn't clued in on."

She turns to face him, something pleading in her voice.

"Is that what this is about?"

Silence.

"Cause if it is, I'm really sorry. You know I just had issues being there. I couldn't take the suffocation, Angel...I **had** to leave."

"You could've stayed with me." The hurt is evident.

"I couldn't always rely on you, Soulboy. I had to do things on my own. I had all the time in the world to see things that aren't always bad, do the good deeds, redeem myself, and to come back all the wiser." She pauses.

"At least, I **thought** I had all the time." It isn't a whisper, but it isn't a conversational loudness. A murmur. Soft and broken and lost. Angel hears it.

And curses the Powers for their twisted plans.

He steps closer and lays a gentle hand on her shoulder again. He observes the flinch and the tremor that goes through her body. She is still afraid of touch. Afraid of gentle. Afraid of care.

He's almost afraid to ask.

"What is it?"

She wishes she knew.

"That's the thing. I don't know."

"You don't know? Haven't you asked the doctors? Don't they-"

"They don't know what it is, Angel. It's something new, kind of like how AIDS was discovered. With all the...blank spaces and lack of info. That's all I know. Hell, it's all **they** know."

He's stunned into silence. She takes advantage of it.

"And that's the fucking irony, isn't it?" She laughs.

"I was so sure I'd die fighting **some** big bad and I end up dying from something so fucking human. Christ, this is so **lame**." She tries to keep it light. She has to keep it light. Otherwise she might fall apart.

"When...?" Now it's a hoarse whisper.

She sighs, turns back around and starts walking. Less stiff, un-hunching the shoulders, a casual stride that invites him to step beside her.

"Six months was when I was diagnosed. First they thought it was something else. Some common cold type disease."

"Has there been any research? Other people; patients? What do they know about-"

"Calm down, Angel."

Calm? He is calm. The epitome of calm. Calm calm calm. As a clam.

Oh who the fuck is he kidding. He is panicking.

"There's been others before me, but all their cases are different from mine." She sees his questioning glance. She continues.

"This thing - whatever the fuck it is - moves fast. There are about 6-8 stages that the typical case seems to go through. The scary part is that they last about an average of a month and a half long. But it keeps affecting you faster as it goes on. Treatment just stops working, and you get weaker by the minute. Throw up every five seconds, can't move, can't breathe, you start bleeding from the tiniest cuts...it's a whole bunch of shit put together."

"I'm assuming that you being a Slayer has something to do with the fact that you're still standing and thankfully still alive." He states with the same voice she remembers from the old days. The one that kept her sane through a lot of the years. And a lot of shit.

Before it all **went** to shit.

"I guess so. I moved into stage two just two days ago. Doubt it'll last 6 months for me this phase. 5, maybe 4." She suddenly wishes she didn't say that. His expression freezes and a flash of fear waves across his handsome face.

"So it's real." He says.

"Yea." It is hard for her to digest, too.

"Why haven't I heard about this until now?"

She figured he'd ask. Angel was always on top of the news. He knew everything about everything.

"They're really keeping this on the down low. Even all the media decide to keep it quiet. They don't want panic, Angel, and shit like this only **means** panic." She says, almost too easily, and he marvels silently at her maturity.

"Anyways, enough about me. How've you been? How is everyone?" Change in tactics, take the subject off of her. Off of what's going to happen to her.

He knows what she's doing, but he decides to humor her. She still has issues with things like that.

"They're all doing well. And I'm doing pretty good. Or was, up until 5 minutes ago."

"Sorry, Fang. Didn't mean to burst your happy bubble, but you did ask."

"That I did." He pauses a little before continuing.

"You haven't kept in touch. Not even with Cordy."

She frowns a little before smirking.

"Queen C mad?"

"At first. Now she just mopes about whenever your name's mentioned. She hasn't forgotten about you, you know." He needs to show her, show her that she isn't as replaceable as she thinks she is. That she isn't someone they could all just forget about if she left. Because whether she (or they) liked it or not, they all cared about her.

He hears the hitch in the breath, but there's no change in her expression. Very cool, very collected. Very Faith.

"I thought I'd have to confine her in her room. She wouldn't eat or sleep for days, searching for you in every single bar..." Still nothing.

"Tearing L.A. apart, strip by strip. She even begged Willow and Xander for help, which they did immediately. They were both upset with your disappearance, too..." He doesn't know why he's talking so much. It's uncharacteristic. But he's waiting, he's searching for a sign, for that little tick before the bomb that is Faith to explode.

"And what with that fight with Buffy, I didn't think she'd ever stop being angry at you, Faith-"

"Fight? What fight?" There is an edge to her voice that cautions him to venture forth slowly.

"Funny thing is, Faith; she won't explain it. Neither of them will, and neither of them will talk to each other anymore. We get it, we just wish they'd talk about it."

There is a nervous laugh.

"I knew the ladies couldn't resist me."

Pause.

"They didn't hurt each other, did they?"

Silence.

"For fuck's sake!" Her hands fly up to press against her temples.

"It was bad, Faith. And it took us all by surprise-"

"When did it happen?"

"During one of our meetings. A little after Cordy finally listened to my advice and quit looking for you."

"Let me guess. Cordy started it, huh?" She knows the girl well. The closest to a best friend she had. That she still has, hopefully.

"Kind of. She started the first jibe, yes, but Buffy was the trigger." He recalls.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you all for reviewing. Here's the next short little blurb. I know they're short, but at least I'm uploading more often than I have before! Enjoy and review!**

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**Approx. One Year Ago**

"Buffy will take the lead in area 1. Kennedy, your and Willow's group shall cover area 2. And Angel Investigations will take over zone 3." Giles pointed at the map before them. Everybody nodded.

The new and younger Slayers were in their dorms now, sleeping, and that night they decided upon a dangerous mission to take down a rather dangerous demon. The old group from the battle with the First was there, along with Angel and his crew. Separated, but together.

Giles sighed, ruffling a hand through his hair, muttering,

"It really is a damned pity Faith isn't here to assist us." He hadn't meant to say it out loud, it just slipped.

As soon as the name was mentioned, the room stiffened. The tension was knocked up higher, and everyone began to feel a little depressed.

"Why? I can...**We** can do this without her." Buffy said hotly.

"I realize that, Buffy, it was just a...a sentiment." Giles backtracked over his words, realizing his mistake of mentioning the girl in the first place.

He just missed the zeal that was Faith, was all. He'd been getting very well along with Faith before she up and left; something he had promised himself to do once they'd all settled down. He had his own dues to pay to Faith, as a Watcher and a guidance.

It paid off.

"Well let's keep sentiments of our favorite psycho to ourselves until after the mind-blowing mission, shall we? Then we can all gather round for a group therapy." There was something in Buffy's voice that dripped with disgust and something oh-so-condescending. Not realizing that almost everybody could see past her anger now. Past the pretense of hate. Seeing all the frustration and confusion at being left.

Both Xander and Angel had sworn later on that they had heard the snap in Cordelia's brain before her voice rang dangerously in the silence.

"I know you're an idiot, Buffy, but I thought you'd be smarter than to talk about Faith like that in front of me."

"And I thought you'd all be smarter than to give a shit about someone we shouldn't care about in the first place."

Cordelia Chase nearly lost her cool. Nearly.

"Denial, Summers?"

"You wish."

"So do you, only you pretend it's not true."

"No need to pretend, Cordelia. It's not."

Cordelia stood up. Buffy followed suit. Everyone tensed, and eyes flitted between the two. They somehow managed to stand face to face, eyes glaring with hate and disgust and - a flicker of understanding?

"Is that what you tell yourself every night you're out fucking someone? That it's just another fuck, something just to blow off some of that Slayer steam? Why not just find someone permanent to fuck, Buffy? Or do you tell yourself you don't need that either? Enlighten me, Buffy, when you're so close to the edge, do you have to tell yourself that you're not really thinking abou-" Cordelia flew across the room and smashed into the wall. And although it hurt, she knew she'd won.

"Hit a nerve, did I?"

"Fuck you."

"I know someone who would've died for that chance again."

Buffy's gaze could've exploded house cats, by that point.

"I guess you could say I know a few, too, Cordy. And if you know what's good for you, you'll just stop talking right now."

"Yea? Well I guess I wouldn't follow your advice, Buffy, since your idea of good is to push away everything you really want to be happy."

"I **am** happy. I have everything I need here."

"Don't be so fucking dense. We all have everything we need here, too, but none of us have what we **want** here, and you know it. Goddamnit, you know it!" She was shouting. She knew she was shouting, but she didn't give a damn.

"Happy, Buffy? Look at you, you're just a pitiful shell that used to be happy. But if you're satisfied in some twisted fucking way to keep it like this, then **fine**." Her perfectly manicured hand rose up to push Buffy Summers' shoulder. If the blonde hadn't been so surprised, she might've retaliated.

"But **don't** bring Faith down like she's just another one of your stupid evils, because even if she left..."

Pause.

"It's not like you went out looking to bring back happiness, anyway."

And with that, Cordelia Chase walked out. As she did, she felt a few drops on her skin.

_Rain. Write a fucking melodrama, why don't we?_

She kept walking, tensing herself for the pourdown. But it only splattered once in a while, a drop on her hands, some more on her new top. She was thankful though, that it didn't pour.

It wasn't until she reached the door to her apartment when she noticed it was never raining at all.


	5. Chapter 5

**I thank you all for your reviews :) I apologize, this is a short chapter, but like I said...short chapters, but faster updates! And the chapters will get longer...I think. **

**Anyways, Enjoy and review!**

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**Present Day**

Angel had mulled over Cordelia's words for a long time. So had everyone else. And it was true.

Somehow, in the two years they had spent with Faith after the First, they had all fallen in love. With Faith. The idea of her. The very essence of her character, including the rough tough badness of it all.

It is what made Faith, after all.

"Well. I'm sure Buffy took that well." She snorts.

"It could've been worse. Cordy just barely missed the chair. Xander had to replace the door."

The chair had basically attached itself permanently onto it. It would've been funny if everybody hadn't been so damn tense.

"As long as everyone's alive." Faith says flippantly, continuing to walk.

"About that."

Her step falters, but she moves resolutely on. There's a bit of silence before she asks.

"Who kicked the bucket?"

He needs to tread onto this carefully. Not quite sure how she's going to take it.

"We've been having some trouble, recently. Another evil coming forth to make its mark on the world. A lot of girls have died. **Are** dying." He says softly. Easy now, Angel. Easy does it.

Too late.

Something in her gait changes, something in the relaxed muscles tense, and her voice spits out through grit teeth.

"So. Finally came to last resort, huh? Finally had to go out of your way to find the girl who knows evil to end the fucking evil?" Venomous.

"No, Faith, that's not it. We want you to come home, you shouldn't be alone her-"

"Come **home**?" She sounds almost surprised. She stops again to gaze with a scorching intensity into his eyes.

His head starts to hurt. She seems to have that sort of power.

"No, Angel. I won't go 'home'." She's shaking her head.

"Because I'm done. Fucking done pretending for your sake, for all their sakes. I won't do it again. I **can't** do it again. Why? Because, Angel, I'm fucking dying!" With that, she breaks into a run.

Angel watches her disappear into the crowds and further into the darkness. He sighs and takes a piece of paper from his coat pocket. Regarding the writing, he wonders if she considers here home. He doubts it.

_Beep beep beep._

"Hello?"

"I'm assuming by the lack of calls that you've found her?" Ah, the English accent and the familiar voice. He has to be grateful.

"Yea. I appreciate the help. Tell Willow, too. I'm sure she'll want to know."

"Of course. I feel part to blame for her leaving. I'd been so busy, I didn't bother much to keep in touch all too often."

"We're all at fault, Wes. I'll bring her back. Thanks again." He hangs up, and hails a taxi.


	6. Chapter 6

**Next little bit. Please enjoy and review!**

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There's a knock at the door.

Faith groans, but she shouldn't be surprised. If Angel knew where she had been, he definitely knows where she is residing. The vamp is rather resourceful, much to her current disappointment. She's been pacing for the last ten minutes, but she sort of figured it wouldn't be long until he arrived. And fuck all mighty ducks, here he is.

The knocking continues.

"Go away." She says loudly.

The knocking stops.

And is replaced by a loud bang.

And in the doorway is someone who very much does **not** look like Angel.

"What the-" Her voice is cut short by the shrieking sounds and her head feels as if it's about to explode.

Demon. Or whatever the fuck it is.

She reaches down and pulls out her prized weapons. Twin daggers of pure silver, handles custom-made to fit her grip perfectly. She uses the money she stole off her enemies very well. Hey, it all goes back to saving the world, so she figures it's all in good context. And if it stops that infernal noise, all the better for the world, right?

"Christ, shut the fuck up already!" She lashes out, but it dodges her strike.

She follows up with a hook kick that connects at what she considers is a jaw. But with these demons, you can't really tell. It howls with pain - or is it anger? - and does something completely unoriginal.

It charges.

Faith is ready and impales it through and through with her fast and deadly jabs to the head, jugular, and heart. It falls immediately, but not before grasping onto her arm tightly. She screams in reaction to a pain she has never had the misfortune to experience before now. It's burning, sizzling, **eating** through her flesh and she can't stop it.

As her vision blurs, a shadowy figure bursts through and tears the grip away, and she pulls back quickly, cradling her arm. Gasping for breath, heart pounding for control, head trying to maintain some sort of hold on reality. She blinks back the tears that are threatening to fall. She wants to cry like a baby, it hurts so bad, but she knows better. She hasn't cried in years and doesn't plan to anytime soon. She hates to. She will always hate it.

"Faith?" There's Angel. She almost laughs.

"I never...thought...I'd say this...but I'm really...really fucking glad you're...here..." She's still gasping. Still hurting.

He reaches for her quickly, wanting to help. Wanting to heal. Wanting to comfort. To save.

"Let me see it."

She's shaking and too weak to move, but she holds out her arm, anyway. The jacket's melted clear away, some of it molded onto her puckered flesh. It's smoking and it makes him want to vomit, even if he's seen worse. Even if he's **done** worse. The grip had been strong and lengthy; parts of her arm has been seared clear to the bone, and he fears she may not be able to use it again. Internally he prays that Slayer healing and perhaps even Willow's powers can help her. Which reminds him.

They need to leave. Tonight. Now.

"We need to leave. Tonight. Do you need help packing?" He wants to smack himself. Of course she needs help. Her arm's comparatively useless to his two arms.

"Wait a fucking...minute." She winces before she continues.

"I'm not...going anywhere." She vaguely considers amputation on the arm. Maybe a robotic arm. Or something.

"Yes you are. Listen, it's not safe here. If you want to come back after it's over, fine. But until then, you need to come with me." Maybe demanding will work.

"Fuck..no."

Or maybe not.

"Faith!" He's exasperated.

"Angel!" So is she.

"Your arm is nearly incinerated, these demons have been tracking down every Slayer in the damn country, and you're the last one that needs securing to complete the happy Slayer community! You're coming with me. Now!" He grabs her good arm and begins to drag her out.

Fuck anything she has here. They can give it to her when they reach L.A.

But Faith has other issues. She snatches her arm away and the anger in her eyes raise a notch. If things are going to get violent, so be it.

"And my disease, Angel? The treatments I need to be taking? What the fuck are you gonna do about that, huh?" The underlying panic in her voice makes him stop. The reality of it makes him stop. The fact that he forgot makes him stop.

"You really think I would've stayed this long if I didn't have to? This is one of the only places that provide for whatever the fuck it is I've got, and I know it might come as a fucking surprise to you, but I want to live, Angel. I don't want to die."

He turns to face her, tears rising in his own eyes. Fear hammering at his heart. Pain. Regret.

Guilt.

"Faith-"

She's wiping her eyes against the back of her good arm, angry that she's crying (it just came out of nowhere), angry that she's hurting, angry that's she's dying.

"I don't even have 3 years, Angel. I've got 2. Maybe 2 and half if I'm lucky. But that's not gonna happen if I don't get my treatment." Her voice breaks. Cracks.

He pulls her into a hug now. Exasperation gone. He's crying freely. He can do that. He's not ashamed.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He holds her. She cries briefly.

In about 10 seconds, she's done. The cold is back. The wall is back. But it's Angel's time to speak.

"I have money. Giles and the Council has money. We have money. We'll have the treatments transferred, we'll have the whole facility transferred if we have to."

She knows he's desperate. That for some unknown reason, she's needed there. She doesn't want to, but she supposes she should. Might as well go down kicking and screaming, fighting and slaying. So with a pained sigh, she walks into the dark of a bedroom, and brings out a pile of clothes and her 'old faithful' duffle bag. She lays it all on the table, motioning for him to start packing. He does. She moves around silently, picking up random little things, still cradling her bloodied arm.

Finally they finish and she shoulders the bag strap and starts walking out. He doesn't say a word but takes it off her shoulder and adjusts it on his own. She mutters in protest, but doesn't argue; her arm really does hurt.

They reach the taxi that Angel commanded to wait and get in.

"Where to?" Indian. Of course.

Angel glances at the disgusting sight that somehow used to represent Faith's arm.

"Hospital."


	7. Chapter 7

**I'm looking forward to when the semester ends, so that I can write more often; the update times in comparison to how much I'm writing is catching up on me. In any case, I do hope you enjoy and review!**

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"You never mentioned a private jet while I was around." Faith's eyebrows have shot up, eyes appreciatively giving the sleek, black machine a look over. She whistles and pats the side of it heartily.

Angel completely agrees with the sentiment. He also hopes she doesn't crush it with her pats.

"It's new." Not much for words anymore.

They step up inside and Faith drops her bag, beginning to wander.

"Did it come with hot stewards? Or stewardesses?" She asks, peering into the cockpit at her left, and down the aisle on her right.

"Nope. Sorry."

She shrugs half-heartedly.

"Well damn. I was really looking forward to joining the mile high club." She jokes, waggling her eyebrows at him seductively. Though he's not particularly sure it's a joke.

"Don't look at me, I'm just the pilot." He replies, buckling himself in.

"Well, hold on."

After a few minutes she returns, with a small stack of white paper bags. She follows suit and buckles up in the copilot seat, then places the bags on her lap before gripping tightly onto one of her arm rests. He gives her an amused look, and she scowls.

"There's no food, nobody to fuck, no TV, and I can't feel my arm. I **know** I'm gonna hurl."

"Willow can help with the arm."

She snorts.

"Red's gonna want to send the fucker a fruit basket for this, not heal me."

He sighs. She was always harboring those doubts, there's no reason for him to have believed she still didn't believe it. He's going to have to work hard. So are the others. They need Faith to be there, to help them, because somehow, the whole situation has turned sour without her there. It strikes Angel as ironic that they can't continue their endeavors without the one person who can't stop running away from them.

"Just hold on. There may be some slight discomfort." He can hear her gulp.

He grins uncharacteristically.

"Fuck you, Angel."

Blast off.

* * *

6 bags. And she thinks she could probably use another, but she holds it down. As she steps off woozily - Angel has to help her - she drops to her knees and kisses the ground.

"Jesus."

"I don't think he's here right now, but I could see if Wes can deliver the message-" He's stopped short by a smack to the chest. He rubs it gingerly as she steadies herself.

"So. This is it?"

They're standing on the rooftop of his new corporate building, Wolfram and Hart, one she had previously sided against. Apparently everybody is staying here now. There are several attendants waiting, mostly because he'd called to say he was arriving soon, and immediately they'd taken her duffel bag and waited in attention. He motions for one of the attendants over and requests the jet to be taken to the airport. To the one holding Faith's bag, he tells him to take her bag into one of the guest rooms. They move immediately at his orders. He places a hand gentle at her back and guides her to the entrance down into the heart of his corporation.

"Come on. I told Wes to get everyone together in the meeting room." He says gently, in order to calm her if she is feeling any doubts.

Which she is.

"Do...do they know I'm here?" She asks. She's feeling a bit anxious and jumpy in spite of herself. She tries to concentrate on the soothing energy inside but can't find the center of her focus in the midst of the chaos in her mind.

"Not yet."

They step into the elevator and he notices her subtle changing of stances, and the wincing whenever her arm spasms. He wishes the elevator would hurry. He hasn't told her the extent to how bad the wound could be. That she could lose it. He demanded angrily at the hospital for them not to tell her, just to give her something to numb the pain and to wrap it. Angel is a bit hard to resist when he has his game face on.

He hopes the numbing isn't wearing off. The pain would be unbearable for both Faith and himself.

_Ding._

The doors open, and all the faces turn. Eyes widen, voices trail off into gasps, and thoughts run amok.

Faith turns to Angel, voice hoarse.

"Angel, I think I need bag number 7 now."

He shakes his head slightly and gives her a small smile. She closes her eyes for a moment, then opens them as she greets the gazes that linger on her face.

And they?

They're all thinking the same things. How thin she's gotten, how pale she looks, what happened to her arm? How did she, where did she, why did she, what did she...

"Faith?"

She smiles, a little unsure. They're caught off guard. Faith is showing vulnerability? Since when did that happen?

"Hey guys. Long time no se-" The greeting is halted by a shocked breath quickly sucked in; the pain in her arm shooting through her body all of a sudden.

The pain is excruciating.

"Willow!" Angel shouts, grabbing at Faith to keep her from falling.

"Hurry, get her onto the table!"

Wes assists him and motions for the others to hold her down.

"Angel...fuck..." She lets out through choked breaths.

It's burning so bad, she doesn't know how to stop it.

"It's okay, Faith. It'll be alright." He's lying through his teeth, wondering what was taking Willow so long. He had called ahead of time for Wes to gather ingredients.

Willow dashes back in, Fred in tow with medical and magical supplies. The others make way for her, and she begins to unwrap the bandage. It's smoking and Willow admonishes herself for her shaking hands. She looks up at Angel in worry, and he's biting his lip as well. Andrew, who had initially squeaked when Faith stumbled, now hands her a wad of gauze.

"Just squeeze, Dark Champion. This is going to hurt."

She nods once and closes her eyes shut, already squeezing into the soft, white cotton. Nearly everybody gags at the sight and smell of her arm, the poison from the demon's hand already working it's way deeper in.

Willow thanks the gods and goddesses for the prepared formula in case of an emergency. When the demons first began to attack, they had no idea how to stop it. But with the Coven's help, Willow figured it out and had more recreated in case things went wrong. She readies to pour it on, and cringes inside at the pain Faith is going to have to endure through.

"Ready, Faith?"

Faith takes 4 seconds to stuff the gauze into her mouth instead and speaks.

"Jus du et, Reh."

Willow nods and pours.

Everyone except Willow turns away with a cringing expression on their faces, wishing they could stop the muffled screams of Faith. Willow resolutely continues to pour, and breathes easier when she sees that the arm has stopped spreading the damage, and grabs for the next thing. Some basic burn ointment that speeds up the healing process of the wounds. She rubs it on, flinching every time she feels the jerk of Faith's body or the whimpers from the Slayer's throat. Then she wraps it tight, casting a slight spell that will contain the incineration and keep it from flowing further along her flesh. She lets go and steps back a little, letting Faith get some air.

Faith lies there, breathing deep, shaking visibly, sweat beaded on her forehead. Her body is reacting to the pain and attempting to heal, but it's so hard when you have two dreadful things racking your body down to a shell. Trying to kill you. But she can't lie there forever. She knows she has to get up, so she forces herself up, ignoring the weakness that ached in her body.

Spitting the gauze from her mouth, she lets out a deep sigh. Looking up at the people she left behind two years ago, she smiles a little sadly. A little tiredly. A smile of hopeless defeat.

"Well. I'm back."


	8. Chapter 8

**Next update! Enjoy and review. Please.**

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"Two years! You've been gone two fucking years, Faith!" Cordelia's voice is reaching an octave unknown to man. Her hands pushing and jabbing and wanting to inflict pain.

Faith takes it. She digests it.

It's all understandable. She left without a word. Without a note, a letter, an email, a phone call, a goodbye; without a single trace. And extra magic to block them from finding her. She did everything she could to wipe it clean. Wipe the memories clean. Feeling so dirty all the time, without even knowing why. Feeling so low, so useless, even when she was placed near the front in line. And then something happened. Old habits die hard, and something inside of her drove her to self-destructive methods. She didn't go crazy, and she didn't resort to evil. No, nothing that would be considered betrayal. She only partied harder, danced longer, fucked a lot more, and counting. She drew further and further into herself, leaving only walls to block the rest of them from reaching her.

Not that they didn't try. They did. They reached to her as equally as they did each other, but the problem that came with Faith was that she needed a hell of a lot more than reaching, and the people who knew it couldn't give it to her.

She felt defective.

And now with her deteriorating health, she knows she is.

"I'm pretty sure she's got the two years speech down, Cor." Xander flashes Faith a smile that tells her how much he missed her. She winks in return.

"I don't care how many times I've said it already! I'll fucking say it again! You've been gone for two motherfu-" Cordelia's breath is taken away by a hug. A very Slayer hug and cue the laughter.

"God, I've missed you, Queen C." Faith pulls back, lopsided grin pasted finely on her gorgeous face. She cocks an eyebrow and leans her head back a little as if checking the other girl out.

Which she was.

"And that fine little ass of yours."

Cordelia can't help but fall back into that time when they threw incessant flirtatious remarks at one another. She places her hands on her hips with a scowl on her face.

"Just so we're clear, I don't put out on the first date."

Faith chuckles and shrugs.

"What a pity, huh?" She turns to Buffy, who is the last person she has yet to greet. Whether it is subconscious or intently done, she'll never know. She's a little nervous, but she was with most everyone else, too.

"Hey B. How's life been treating you?"

Buffy doesn't quite know how to answer it. Nobody else quite knows how she's gonna answer it, either.

"Fine. We've been doing well."

_Without you._

Faith gets the message behind the defensive tone, the defensive stance. The defensive everything. She doesn't take it too personally, considering she's pretty used to the low self-esteem bit. So she ignores the jibe. Buffy seems to be on edge anyways, no need to push it.

"Didn't ask about all of you. I asked about you."

"Peachy."

"So I hear." Oh, she got the general gist from Angel. Just that plane ride alone filled her in on all the little details. Things she already knew. Things that they know now. The way she seemed to have lived on.

It makes her feel empty again.

"Faith, can we talk? Alone?" Buffy's voice holding something a little more than just irritation.

Faith nodding in agreement, already walking out into the hall, waiting for Buffy to follow. Who follows. Turning back around to face her.

"Yea?"

"Why did you leave?"

The question so innocent, with no anger behind it. No accusation. Just asking. Just wondering. Just needing to know.

Answered by a simple answer.

The honest answer.

"You."

Buffy turns away a little, breath catching in her throat in something between a gasp and a sob. She isn't as strong as she wants everybody else to believe. She isn't as tough as she pretends she is. Because as long as she's still doing her job and doing it right, she's allowed to do whatever she wants, right?

But here's the answer that says no.

From the person who makes her feel not as strong, and not as tough.

Not as invincible.

But she drags everything - kicking and screaming - back inside and holds it as still as she can.

"Was it...because...?"

"Yea." Faith responds, knowing exactly what Buffy is talking about, and still wanting to smack her over the head for it. Preferably with a sledgehammer.

Because it was that night that had provided the most damage, the most insult to injury as possible. It was the salt to the fucking open wound, baby, and it was just enough to get Faith running with her tail **not** between her legs. It was up and high, probably wagging as she chased off into the night, if only to defy everybody and everything she was leaving behind.

To show them that she could care even less than they could.

* * *

**Approx. Two years ago.**

It was a night like any other.

Except maybe it wasn't, because for some reason there were two bodies up against the door instead of one, two voices laughing and whispering, two minds fogged over with alcohol and adrenaline. Two different hands mingling together in the darkness because they were the only hands strong enough to hold against the other. Two lips meeting each other's, two hands opening the door, two pairs of clothing strewn about the floor, and two bodies blending into one.

It was a night that neither could forget.

"Faith..."

The gasps couldn't be forgotten. The heavy breathing, the sound of lips smacking against each other, the hands traveling into depths they've never dared dreamed of going into.

"B..."

God, it was just so damn sexy.

"B...B...Buffy!"

She wanted to hear her name over and over again, in that voice, in that same tone, just over and over and over again, that was all she wanted.

And yet.

And yet in the morning she woke up and walked out, clothes disheveled and make up running; she walked out without saying a word, without leaving a note, without giving a goodbye kiss, without anything. She walked out with shame on her face, with silence in her voice, with tip-toes in case anybody else heard what they both knew everybody probably heard.

She walked out.

When Faith woke up, she was all alone and everything was the same.

The walls were the same color, the room was dimly lit, the door was shut and closed, and everything was the same.

And yet.

And yet nothing was the same.

The bed smelled of her, the sheets were damp with sweat, her body felt like heaven, and her mind felt like a clusterfuck.

_She walked out._

And said nothing.


	9. Chapter 9

**Unfortunately for you, readers, I'm going to keep pulling back and forth on the string...continue on if you dare! Enjoy and review!**

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**Present Day**

"So what's the sitch?" She asks, sitting herself down at the seat she used to sit in, the seat that nobody ever took over for her because they always figured she would one day return.

"These demons seem to have the strange ability to track down Slayers and attack when they're least expecting it, oh Dark one." Andrew starts, before everyone else jumps in and interrupts his impending speech.

"They can sear through flesh-"

"We don't know how they know-"

"They unevitably manage to find out-"

"The attacks started a year after you left-"

"Growing in power, it seems-"

"They're big, frightening, and do things like **that** to your flesh." Anya concludes majestically, pointing at her arm. Anya, who, as well as Spike, had been revived from the dead a little while before she'd left L.A.

Pause.

"Okay. So they're after the Slayers, they've somehow manage to locate you guys easily enough, and they're tough motherfuckers. Am I missing anything?" Faith asks with a slight bit of exasperation. She hasn't gotten any rest yet and the whole ordeal in itself is tiring.

Not to mention her body feels weak and she still needs to talk to Angel about those treatments...

"Something of that nature, yes." Giles says calmly.

"And how do we stop them?"

Silence reigns over the group for a moment.

Just for a moment.

"Well we've found that these work pretty well."

There's a clunk on the table as Xander drops a semi-automatic handgun onto the surface.

Faith's eyebrows go up as she looks around the morbid expressions surrounding the table.

"You're telling me we've upgraded from our bare hands to magnums and glocks? You guys do get how dangerous this could be, right?"

"Only those around this table have been carrying, Faith. But sooner or later, we're going to have to equip the newer Slayers with-"

"What are we now, the mafia? We're Slayers, not the fucking mob!" Faith says indignantly, standing up as she pushes her chair back. She can't believe what's going on.

Guns? Automatic weaponry? This was leading into a whole other level that she couldn't comprehend, nor would she. Slayers were meant to protect humanity with their own skills and abilities that were cultivated in them by their powers. They were supposed to use knives and stakes as extensions of their bodies in order to take out the enemy. Not point and shoot. That would destroy everything. It would bring about the collapse of the traditions of the Slayer. And guns...certainly they were cool and useful and powerful, but how could they trust that any of the newbies wouldn't turn rogue like she did?

If she'd asked for guns back in the day when she was still a Rogue...the Scooby gang might not have even continued to exist. She would've made it her goal to take out each and every one of them without them ever laying a finger on her. Hell, she could've just hired a normal, **human** hitman to take the lot of them out for her while she was busy playing video games on her new tv. So guns? Bad, terrible, horrible idea.

Technology could be a bitch.

"Faith, we appreciate your concern, and I can assure you that we've discussed this quite thoroughly. However, it has been concluded that the pros outweigh the cons." Giles speaks calmly, glancing at everybody's worried faces.

She can't speak. She doesn't know how. She's utterly speechless.

"Faith."

She looks towards Angel.

"We can't afford to let these demons close to anybody. We need to be able to stop them from a distance; touch will only bring about...well, you know."

"What about crossbows?"

"Too slow." Kennedy interjects.

"Smoke grenades?"

"Doesn't kill them." Gunn points out.

"Not to mention it could debilitate members of our team." Wesley adds.

"..."

"Why is it bothering you so much? Didn't you have to use a gun when you were tracking down Angelus?" Buffy asks, almost briskly, though really just wondering why Faith is so against the use of guns.

Faith's eyes stares right through hers for a moment before pulling away.

"I just don't trust them. There's just too much that could go wrong."

"What do you mean?"

"Newbie could be untrained, unskilled, could accidentally drop it into the hands of the enemy, could potentially be or turn into the enemy. They'd lose their ability to fight without an automatic weapon, they'd take the easy way out because it there, but what happens if the gun jams? Or if they run out of ammo? Then they're helpless. None of them have the proper training-"

"Faith, you've been gone for two years, what do you think we've been doing?"

"Well, assumably teaching them out to point a shoot like a fricking Nikon. And if they're focusing on that, then they won't focus as much on the other stuff, which means we'll have a full school of mediocre Slayers who like to play with Smith and Wessons!"

Silence.

"I think she used the word 'mediocre'. Correct me if I'm wrong. Or pinch me if I'm dreaming, cause that's more than two syllabl-OW!"

Faith manages to hit Dawn's head accurately with a pack of cigarettes. Camel Turkish Silvers, in case you were wondering. She would have to get them back later, they were her favorites.

"Your concern is legitimate and actually quite logical, Faith. However, it's a risk we have to be willing to take." Giles says gently.

"Look, I didn't come back for this."

"Faith-"

"You asked me to come cause you needed help. What the hell good am I if you're using automatic weapons anyway?"

"Whatever happened to kill first, ask later? I mean, I'd figure you'd be happier with the whole bang bang superstar thing." Cordelia looks at her funny.

Something's different about Faith. But what?

But Faith doesn't want to say. And she doesn't want to talk about it. It's a long story and a sad one, too. Innocent people die, and even if it wasn't her fault, it feels like she can't wipe their blood off her hands.

Oh god.

She can feel her knees buckle before she can sit down.

"Faith!"


	10. Chapter 10

**Thank god the semester's almost over. Finals done, everything's pretty much all in check. Hope you all are faring the same. Enjoy and review!**

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When she opens her eyes, she's looking up into Fred's.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like someone hit me with a table."

"That's fairly accurate, though who hit what first is debatable. You hit the table with your head."

"Eh, po-tay-to, po-tah-to. What's the difference?"

"Depends on your jury and judge, I guess."

Faith grins at her shy and gentle friend, who smiles shyly back.

"Hey, is Angel around? I need to talk to him."

"I'm here." Angel's voice reaches her ears and she turns her head to her left, where Angel sits by her bedside.

"Oh. Hey."

"Hey yourself."

"All done." Fred says as she stands up straight, stuffing the old gauze into the plastic casing of the new gauze she applied onto Faith's cut and bruised forehead.

"Thanks, Fred. Feels better already."

"Oh it's nothing." The girl blushes.

"Think you could give us a sec? Have to ask Fang here some questions."

"Of course." Fred says without question as she scurries out of the room.

Pause.

"So...what's up?"

"Well, you're the one who wanted to talk."

"Yea, I guess I did."

"...well?" Angel asks impatiently.

Faith sighs.

"My treatment, Angel. I need to know about my treatment. I get it every week or so, and I can't afford to miss it. There's just...obviously too much at stake here."

"I spoke to Giles, and-"

"You did what?"

Angel stares at her funny.

"I spoke to Giles."

"Why? It was supposed to be our secret!"

"He has the access code to the money-"

"Now he's gonna know something's up and he'll tell everybody else!"

"I really doubt that."

"What if it slips his tongue or something? I don't want them to know that I'm like this!"

Silence.

"Why not?"

"..."

"Faith?"

"I just don't, okay? I came back to help, not for some stupid pity party." She grumbles as she turns away from him before he sees the slight look flash across her face.

But he figures it out.

She doesn't want them to know because she's afraid. The further it is from her mind, the further it is from happening. And if any of them find out, they'll find out she's not invincible; that she's not the strong Faith that they know and respect and fear. She's just as human as they are, even if she is a Slayer. And she doesn't want them to ever know that.

It makes her vulnerable.

Weak.

Easy to use.

He understands her fear, but God help whoever may think she is easy to use, even at a state such as this. She would make sure her last living act was to destroy whoever made her hurt. It would be her life goal.

Unless she loved them. Then, it wouldn't be so easy.

_Knock knock._

They both look up at the blonde standing in the doorway.

One tenses, the other worries.

"Buffy." Angel nods at her as he stands up to leave.

He turns to Faith and almost smiles.

"I'll be in my office if you need me."

"Good to know, big guy."

As he passes Buffy in the doorway, he lays a light hand on her shoulder before walking away. Buffy's eyes follow him briefly before turning back to the brunette lying on the bed.

"Hey...can I come in?"

"Well you are the boss, aren't you?"

"I wouldn't really call it that."

Faith shrugs her shoulders.

"Call it what you want, I'm just calling what I know."

"Do you have to make everything a fight?"

"Just with you, B. Nothing new to you, though, right?"

"Well I guess it's not much different than having Kennedy around 24/7."

"Ken-doll's been keeping the bar up for me? How sweet."

"Annoying, is probably the better term."

"Sure it's just a way of showing respect."

"By defying all my orders and almost getting herself killed, yes."

"Ha. Girl after my own heart."

"At least this one doesn't kill innocent people." Buffy blurts without thinking.

A silence falls over the room.

Faith's jaw clenches, and she purses her lips before speaking.

"...I see."

Buffy wishes she could eat her words, as she flusters to speak.

"No, I...I didn't mean-"

"And you wonder why it's always a fight, Buffy? You come in here and after years - not weeks, not months, **years** - you still can't get over it?"

"It...it just came out, I wasn't even thinking..."

"That's just it, B. You don't even mean to. It's just a part of you that can't seem to forgive me. How was I supposed to live here knowing that the one person that..."

_...mattered the most..._

"...never forgave me?" Faith finishes with a whisper. She didn't dare say what she thought. Not to her.

It would prove to be weak. And she couldn't afford that.

She never could.

"Faith, I didn't mean it like that. I swear. I forgave you the second we reached L.A. after we took down the First. Remember the talk we had? Things changed, Faith. You changed, and I changed. There was no reason to hold a grudge anymore."

"Sure, B."

"I'm sorry."

Faith smiles a fake smile at Buffy, body immediately taking action to numb the emotional pain she can start to feel twisting her gut.

"It's no big deal, B."

Pause.

Faith pulls the blanket up to her crevice between her neck and her chest and clears her throat.

"Well, I think I'm gonna hit the hay. Had a rough day, you know?"

Buffy nods immediately and begins to walk out backwards as Faith reaches over to turn off the lamp by her bed.

"Right! Of course. Have a good night."

"Night, B."

"Oh and Faith?" Buffy stops before reaching the doorway.

"Yea?"

Buffy pauses and bites her lip in the dark, and Faith can only see her silhouette against the light in the hallway.

"It's good to have you back."

Faith stiffens, then a small smile breaks out on her face.

"Good to be back, Buffy. Thanks."

Buffy closes the door quietly and starts down the hallway.


	11. Chapter 11

**Hope everyone is doing alright; been rather busy with household work lately. Enjoy and review!**

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**2 and a half months later**

"So, let me get this straight. You're annoyed because Cordelia and Faith have been spending too much time together?"

"You forgot Fred, Wills. I think she mentioned Fred in that rant somewhere." Xander quips from the lounge chair.

"Oh, right. Because Cordelia, Fred, and Faith have been spending too much time together?" Willow re-states the question, staring at her best friend pacing back and forth in the center of the upstairs living room.

"No, I'm not annoyed. I'm just concerned that Faith is taking favorites and they might be distracting her from her duties. I mean, we brought her here-"

"Angel brought her here." Willow interjects

Buffy waves her hand in the air in annoyance.

"Fine. **Angel** brought her here so she would be protected, but also so she could help us figure out how to beat these demons and there she is playing buddy-buddy with the house bitch and the house scientist!"

Xander watches carefully from where he is sitting out the window, at the three girls in the lobby downstairs eating crackers and cheese while pointing at a pile of blueprints.

"Um, Buff, I think she's just discussing security."

"But with them?"

"Well, they are a part of the team and all. Plus, why does it matter if she's close to them? I mean, you're close to us and it's always turned out okay."

"Yea, but it's Faith, and that's...that makes everything different."

"Uh...how?"

"It just does."

Muffled laughter interrupts their conversation as they all glance down at the three women. Faith seems to be choking on a cracker, while Fred giggles and Cordelia smacks Faith in obvious - but fake - fury.

"See? Distractions!" Buffy points indignantly.

Willow and Xander exchange looks before speaking.

"Buffy, I think it'll be fine. It's a good thing Faith is getting back into the fold, right? We have to give her a break, I mean, her arm's been nearly half burnt off and what with the treatments she needs-" Willow stops abruptly before slapping her hands over her mouth.

She said too much.

Damn.

Buffy turns and faces her nervous friend with her brows furrowed.

"Treatments? What treatments, Will?"

"Nothing!" Willow squeaks.

"What are you talking about?"

"Buffy..."

"Willow!"

"I can't tell you!"

"Why not?"

"Because even I'm not supposed to know!"

"Know what?"

"Nothing!"

"Willow! Tell me now!"

"I don't even really know, Buffy! I mean, I asked Giles why we were wiring money to some hospital for Faith, but he specifically told me it was none of our business!"

"Everything that goes on in this facility is our business."

"No, it's not." They all jump as Angel's voice cut through the air like a knife as he steps forward from the shadows.

"Do you really have to do the whole creepy thing?" Xander asks, his manly ego bruised from the frightened jump.

"You know about this?" Buffy asks incredulously.

"When Giles says it's none of your business, it's best to understand that it really **is** none of your business, Buffy."

"Are you serious? Angel, we are a team, we don't keep secrets from each other."

"It's not a secret, it's a personal matter, and if Faith wishes to tell you about it, it's her choice. It's the team who needs to respect the individual's privacy." Angel responds sternly.

Out of the corner of her eye, Buffy can see Faith putting her arms around the shoulders of her friends with a big grin on her face, and she feels a twitch of jealousy.

"Do Fred and Cordelia know?"

"No."

"You sure? Cause they look pretty close and personal right now."

"Get over yourself, Buffy."

"**Excuse** me?"

Angel snorts with something similar to disgust and shakes his head.

"You keep wondering why she won't come to you like she did before and now you're jealous of the people she chooses to be with? You walked out on her, Buffy. You think it's a hidden secret? It's not. You turned your back on her the moment she needed you the most, and you really think she'll trust you again?"

Buffy's mouth is open with shock, and the other two pretend they're looking at something else quite interesting on the walls.

"How **dare** you-"

"No, Buffy. How dare **you**. How dare you expect from her the loyalty you denied her?" He asks seriously before turning around and walking out.

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"Your plan, Faith?"

"Right. So I've been thinking, okay? And we've been eluding these fuckers for 2 months now-"

"2 and a half." Buffy interrupts.

Faith rolls her eyes and throws up her hands.

"Okay, 2 and a half months. In any case, we've managed to get past these guys and we know that they're working for someone with the tech to track us down. What we need now is to get them at the base and take them down."

Dawn looks up from her book and fiddles with the pen in her hand.

"Well that's pretty much the goal."

"Right. So what I'm thinking is we bring in one of these demons and make him...her...**it** talk."

"Assuming they can talk." Wes notes.

"Exactly. But we can do what we did with the First. Willow's got the mojo and it shouldn't be hard to figure out where their main base is located. All we have to do is capture one of them and keep it in one of the holding cells."

"And how, exactly, do you plan to do that?"

"We were thinking bait." Fred speaks up - unusual for her, but Faith seems to bring out the confidence - and pulls out the blueprints.

"Bait?"

Faith grins at Fred for her input and turns back to face the others.

"Yup. Bait."

"And this isn't risky how?" Buffy asks, subconsciously glaring at the three amigas sitting so closely to each other.

"Well everything we do is risky, Buffy. I think it's a fairly decent idea, as long as we execute it the way we plan it out."

"And who are we using to-"

"It's gotta be us, B."

"Us?"

"You and me, blondie. We're the top Slayers and we can handle them at close range til one of them gets too close. Then we nab'em."

Cordelia jumps in, pointing at a spot on the blueprint in front of her.

"We'll prepare the holding cell and have everything ready when you guys bring one in; if you guys do the job right, everything will go smoothly."

Silence reigns.

"We can't really plan to run into them, how do you expect we'll get their attention?"

"The two best Slayers out on patrol, and you don't think they'll find a way to track us down? Come on, B. There's no way they're gonna try to miss the opportunity."

"How are we taking them down?"

"With this." Fred holds up a strange looking bullet, clear with a slightly green-colored liquid contained inside. She places it on the table.

"Shoot them with one of these and they won't be able to move for 36 hours."

Angel picks it up, examining it closely.

"36 hours. That's good time."

"We added extra sleepage power just in case. It was Faith's idea." Fred smiles enthusiastically.

"Well, that's very good work, Faith. I must say, this is a splendid idea, as long as you two manage to recover home safely, I believe we have our ticket." Giles concludes, taking off his glasses for a cleansing finale. At least, for the time being.

"We good then? The plan's a go?" Faith asks, almost incredulously.

Are they actually agreeing to her plan? Are they actually listening to her?

It's not that they've never listened to her before, but it's been a while since she's felt useful and now...well. She feels useful again.

Wanted.

Needed.

Even Buffy didn't contradict as much as she thought the girl would.

"Why-ever not, Faith? It's a solid idea and we'll be there to provide backup. As long as you're both careful, I don't see why it wouldn't be a 'go'." Wes states conclusively, hand reaching for the shotgun in the corner that he kept with him at all times.

Ooh. Tough guy Wes.

It suits him.

Faith grins and rubs her hands together in anticipation.

"Let's do this."


	12. Chapter 12

**I'm a busy being, but I promise I haven't forgotten about you lot. I believe I'll have a new fic coming up soon. It's a short one, I think. We shall see. **

**Do enjoy and review. **

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**One month ago**

"Ow."

Pause.

"Ow!"

Pause.

"...owowow."

Pause.

"Fucking ow!"

"Faith!"

Faith almost jumped at the berate. She looked at her caretaker with surprise.

"Geez, Fred, don't have to yell. I'm right fucking here."

Fred rolled her eyes as she continued to unwrap the bandage on Faith's arm.

"Yes, and I happen to be right here, too, and I know you're in pain, so you can stop whining now."

"What? Who says I'm whining? I'm a battle-wounded soldier, you should be honoring me instead of making fu-OW!"

The usually quiet girl managed to pull the last bit of wrap off the arm, causing parts of the scab stuck to the cotton rip right off.

"It's off now, you big baby."

"Calling me your baby, Freddy?"

"I'm calling you **a** baby."

"Yea, sure...baby." Faith drawled, wiggling her eyebrows at the adorable girl in front of her.

Fred could only blush furiously as she avoided all eye contact.

"Damn, you're cute when you're embarrassed."

She blushed harder, and began to unwrap the new bandage she soaked in a powerful solution.

"So...ever date a girl?"

Fred almost dropped the bandage at the question, nearly tipping over the bowl full of warm liquid sitting next to Faith's seated body.

"I'll take that as a no, then."

Pause.

"It's a no, right?"

"Right!" Fred responded quickly, wrapping the damp bandage tightly around Faith's slowly healing arm.

It had been nearly a month since it was inflicted, and for a demon-banged up arm, it looked much better.

"Wanna get a drink sometime?"

"Faith, we always have a drink before bed."

"Yea, but you take a sip of chardonnay and call it a night. I mean like...real heavy partying, you know? In a hot club with the boom boom beats, sweaty guys, and girls with no inhibition. It's perfect!"

"I don't think so."

"Oh come on. Loosen up a bit. How about we have a party with you me and Cordy? That way you can get used to the whole party scene. We shall teach you the ways of social-dom. Which obviously Buffy and her gang of idiots couldn't teach you." Faith smirked, patting down the bandage on her arm.

"I'm really not well suited for party-like situations..."

"Great, it's settled." Faith butted in, taking Fred by the arm and leading her out of the infirmary. Fred could only grumble under her breath, but followed the Slayer's lead anyway. Faith could be quite persuasive.

As they walked down the hall, they almost ran into Cordelia, who had just finished snapping at someone over the phone.

"Whoa, what's with arm-linkage? Am I missing something here?"

Fred started to blush again, while Faith just grinned and held her other arm out for Cordelia to take.

"Missing out on the party is what you're missing. You and I are gonna teach Fred here about the social night life and how to go about it."

"We are, are we?"

"Yea we are. Come on, none of us have had a chance to relax since I got back, and Little Miss Nerd here has got to drink something other than white wine before I get bored of her."

Cordelia rubbed her chin thoughtfully with her free hand and made an 'a-ha!' face before saying,

"I know where we keep the liquor. And the store's not too far away."

"Perfect."

"What about chasers and mixers?" Fred asked timidly.

Faith just scoffed, and Cordelia made the 'a-ha' face again.

"Sweet tea's fairly plentiful in the fridge. We can make our own little version of Long Island."

"Eh. You pussies."

"Just because we don't like to drain gasoline into our systems doesn't make us pussies, psycho."

"Yea yea, whatever...pussies."

The three grinned as they continued discussing their plans for the evening whilst walking down the hall.

"Hey guys!"

"Jesus, this hallway is fucking made for running into people."

Xander just smiled nonchalantly, Willow smiled softly, and Buffy...didn't smile too much at all.

"So what are you guys up to?"

Faith shrugged.

"Ah, you know. planning for our little threesome tonight."

Willow's eyes went wide, Buffy coughed, and Xander's jaw went slack.

"Wha..?"

"Sheesh, and I thought I was a perv. We're just gonna gather round for some heavy music and drinkage. You guys wanna join in?"

"I was under the impression that we have a demon rampage to quell."

"Yea, and we seem to be handling it pretty damn well, doncha think? Besides, what's one night of fun? I think we all deserve it."

"Hey well, I'm in! Mind if I bring Anya?" Xander quipped excitedly.

"Of course not. Bring whoever you want. We're just trying to show Fred here how to loosen up a bit." Faith nudged the flushing Fred playfully.

"Because apparently she has to try that with everybody." Cordelia remarked snidely.

Faith shrugged again.

"Well it's gotta work on somebody. Just haven't found the right one yet. Hoping math whiz here will change her mind on the one-gender dating scene." She winked.

Something inside Buffy twitched at the sight of Fred giggling at Faith's bravado. And why were all three of them so close to each other? This was war, not some...brothel!

"Something wrong, B?"

"Huh?"

"You look like you just swallowed a roach or something."

Buffy made a face that enhanced the previous look and Faith assumed a puzzled expression on her face.

"Yea. Now you look like you-"

"I get it, Faith."

"Okay, just making sure you knew."

The blonde rolled her eyes, which Faith masterfully ignored as she resumed a smile.

"So we'll see you guys in the party room later?"

"Sure thing, Faith!" Xander responded for the rest of them.

"Cool. Ladies?"

The Scoobies watched as Faith and her two leading ladies glided past them down the hall. Xander scratched his head.

"Huh. That's a weird trio."

Willow nodded.

"Agreed."

Buffy said nothing.


	13. Chapter 13

**Yes, yes, I understand it's been a while, but there have been things I needed tending to. In any case, I am here; enjoy, and please review!**

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**Later in the evening**

Buffy was glaring.

She was glaring fiercely.

At whom?

At Faith.

And Cordelia.

It seemed the Rogue Slayer and the Queen were dancing to clubby techno music that was blaring in the background. They were pressed up against each other, already tipsy from the alcohol consumed and seemingly oblivious to the world around them.

They were close.

Too close.

Buffy had a flashback of the days when she and Faith would dance at the Bronze, kicking ass and taking names.

And holding hands.

She looked around the room at the others dancing and socializing and drinking.

Why was she the only one alone?

"There a reason you're sitting here on your lonesome, luv?" She heard Spike's drawl to her left.

"No."

He sat down next to her, holding a glass of whiskey. He glanced at her, then followed her gaze towards Faith.

Hmm.

He, as well as everyone else, knew what had happened the years before, something he had seen coming long before it happened. He was well aware that Buffy wasn't over it, no matter how hard she tried to contain it within herself. Perhaps she thought nobody knew, but gosh.

Everybody knew. The chemistry between the two was hard to miss.

"Good to have her back, eh?"

"I guess."

"She's a good asset to the team. Missed the blimey bitch."

Buffy only scowled in return.

"Think you're the only one who hasn't spent much time with her since she's been here."

"What's the point? She's obviously too busy with her friends."

"And you don't think she's your friend, too?"

"Whatever."

"Oh come on now, pet. She's as much your friend as she is mine."

"You must have a really strange relationship, then."

"No stranger than ours, really."

Buffy turned to glare at him.

"Don't you have someone else to bother?"

"Ooh. Touchy subject?"

"Go. Away."

Spike just smirked as he got up and walked towards some of the others.

Buffy's eyes followed him before turning back around to stare at Faith. She must've felt it, because soon their eyes interlocked, and as she moved Buffy couldn't look away.

_Come here._

Faith seemed to say.

Buffy just blinked.

_Come here._

She resisted the urge to get up and kept watching.

The corners of Faith's lips slightly jerked up.

_Come. Here._

She slowly stood up. And cautiously treaded towards the dancing duo.

_What am I doing, what am I doing, what am I doi-_

"Hey B. Care to join the fun?"

"I..."

"Come on."

Faith reached for her limp hand and pulled her closer, separating them from her and Cordelia's drunken dancing. She placed a hand on Buffy's lower back and pulled her in, so close that their bodies were touching.

"Faith..."

"Shh. Just feel the beat, B." Faith whispered in her ear, cheek to cheek.

Buffy could smell the liquor on her breath but said nothing. Instead she closed her eyes, hands timidly reaching up to rest on wherever they could on Faith's body.

Touch never felt so good.

She moved to the bass line, swaying her body, rocking it against Faith's. Years ago she never would've imagined she would ever dance with Faith again, but here she was.

Dancing.

"Been a while since we've done this, huh?"

"Yea..."

Faith took in a deep breath, and murmured in a husky tone.

"Mm. You smell good, B."

"Well, I did take a shower before the party."

Faith chuckled.

"Good call."

As they danced for the next several songs, there was a pair of eyes that watched them. And eventually came closer.

There was a tap on Faith's shoulder, and she turned to face Fred, who was drunk off her 3rd cup of some rather strong long island ice tea.

"Hey Freddy girl. What's up?"

Fred hiccuped and smiled timidly, briefly glancing back at Cordelia, who nodded confidently. When she turned back to look at Faith, she was stuttering.

"May...may I have t-this dance?"

Faith grinned, letting go of Buffy and reaching a hand out.

"Sure."

Fred let an uncharacteristic grin spread over her face as she took the hand. Buffy's eyebrows furrowed briefly before dropping her hands down to her sides and walking back to her seat.

Freaking...outdone by a math nerd. God, she felt dejected.

She continued to scowl for the rest of the night as she watched the two girls get closer and closer by the end of the party.


	14. Chapter 14

**I realize it's been a while, but I'm back! And this chapter is longer. Enjoy and please do review.**

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**Present day**

"You're unusually quiet tonight, B."

"Well we're acting as bait, I figure we should stay silent until we run into the demons that so happen to be able to burn our flesh with a single touch."

"Okay...never mind, then."

They stroll around the cemetery, breathing in the cool night air.

But it's not like either of them expect she can stay quiet for long.

"So...why you been avoiding me?"

"What?"

"You've been avoiding me like the fucking plague for almost two months now."

"A month and a half."

"Whatever. Either way, you've been avoiding me."

Buffy purses her lips and keeps her eyes focused in front of her. It's not like she really wants to get into this conversation now. Or ever, really.

Faith sighs and rolls her eyes as she fiddles with the gun holstered to her thigh.

She isn't sure how she expected the conversation to go, but she had been hoping it would go a little more smoothly than it was now.

_Ssshcck._

They both turn to their left, hands immediately gripping tight on their guns.

Silence.

"I'm not the only who heard that, right?"

"No, you're not."

"Good."

_Sshck sshck._

Now they turn to their right.

"B."

"What?"

"I think we're surrounded."

"You think?"

"Back to back?" Faith asks.

Buffy says nothing as she turns to face her back to Faith's. It's a good idea.

"Come on, fuckers. You can come out now. Promise we don't bite."

Slowly but surely they see the shadows emerge from behind the trees and the tombstones.

"Lookie here, B. We've got company."

"Faith."

"Yea?"

"Shut up."

The first sound emits from one of the demons, a loud, piercing shriek that dremels at their eardrums as it charges.

Faith draws a knife and throws it true as it thunks into the creature's head, felling it quickly as it came.

The others cry out as they charge.

"What the fuck, Faith?" Buffy shouts as she draws her pistols and begins to shoot.

Faith pulls out a gun in one hand and a short sword in the other.

"Well it's not like we need all of them, just one is enough. Killing the others is probably the best idea." She returns as she spin kicks a demon and slashes another down by the neck.

Soon enough they're all down, several dead, and the others tranquilized. Faith weaves in and out amongst them, observing as she goes. Eventually she stops at one, and putting gloves on, she squats down and ties its hands and feet together. As Buffy watches, she then walks by the rest and using her sword, slices off each and every one of their heads.

Just in case.

"How thorough of you." Buffy remarks sarcastically as Faith comes up toward her, dragging the chosen demon by a rope she's tied to its hands.

"I try."

Buffy rolls her eyes and turns around.

"Let's just get out of here."

Faith grunts and sheaths her sword, adjusting the rope she's holding as well. When she turns back around she's pulling out her gun.

Quickly.

"Buffy!"

Buffy hears the shout but before she can react, a fast - and heavy - force knocks her into the ground. She can hear her skin burning before she can feel it.

She screams.

_Blam blam blam!_

It's the last thing she hears before she passes out.

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When Buffy finally comes to, she can hear voices beside her.

"She's gonna be okay, right?"

"Faith, you haven't gotten any sleep for the last two days. She'll be fine. It wasn't as deep as it could've been."

"Then why's she been passed out for so long? I didn't pass out when that one fucker took out my arm."

"She hit her head on the tombstone pretty hard; a slight concussion, but we both know she's been through worse."

"I should've seen it coming. I mean, it was way too easy."

"Well it's over, you managed to get Buffy and the demon back so it's not a problem."

"Yea, well, as long as she's okay."

Another voice joins the fray.

"Faith?"

"What?"

"I believe it's time for your treatment."

"Oh. Right."

Treatment?

Buffy opens her eyes and sees Faith and Angel sitting on either side of her bed, Giles standing slightly in front of the doorway.

"B!" Faith exclaims, a half-smile appearing on her face.

She looks awful. Her face is pasty white and drawn, she seems to be visibly shaking, and her eyes look yellow and bloodshot. Faith has been looking worse for the wear lately, but never this bad. Ever.

"God, you look like shit."

The brunette looks taken aback before chuckling.

"Well, speak for your goddamn self, princess."

"I bet I look fine. I just feel like shit, is all."

"Makes two of us, now don't it?"

"Faith?" Giles urges softly.

"Right, well, I was just checking in. Must be all the good energy I've got going, waking you up and all." Faith says lightly as she stands up and walks out the door, Giles following behind her.

Buffy and Angel both watch them go, before turning to look at each other.

"She wasn't really just checking in, was she?"

Angel sighs.

"She hasn't left that chair since she carried you in here except to question the demon for a couple hours yesterday. Didn't eat, didn't sleep..."

"**She** carried me in?"

"Wouldn't let anybody else handle you."

How flattering.

"Huh."

"Yea."

Silence.

"So...we got the demon?"

"One of the many, yes. I don't know how she managed to carry you and drag it back to the van without more than two arms."

"Well, it **is** Faith. She's surprisingly resourceful."

"Yes, yes she is."

Silence.

"So what's the treatment?" Buffy finally asks.

Angel sighs again.

"Buffy..."

"Angel, if there's something going on with Faith, I need to know."

"No, you **want** to know. There's a difference."

"Either way, I'd really appreciate it if you'd tell me."

There's a slight pause while Angel contemplates before he speaks.

"Buffy, if Faith wants you to know, she'll tell you. It's not my business to say anything."

"But-"

"That's it, Buffy. No more."

This time, Buffy sighs. She figures it'd be easier by now, all the random surprises life throws at you, but it's not. Doesn't get easier, because the surprises get worse and worse. It's difficult for even her to quite grasp it, but she guesses she has to. At this point, adapting to life is all she's got going for her.

Then again, she's always been in habit of breaking the rules and changing the game.

"What information have we gotten from the demon so far, then?"

"We only got it started talking yesterday a bit because the tranquilizer kept it knocked out for a day and a half. But apparently they've built a whole new lair in the hole that is now Sunnydale."

"What?"

"Don't worry, we were all kind of shocked."

"Go figure we'd all end up having to go back to that hellhole."

"It has an uncanny tendency to draw all the evil in the world."

"How the hell do you build a lair in a hole, anyway? Is that even possible?"

"I don't even know, we're still trying to get some sort of map out of the creature but it's taking a bit to convince it."

"Ha. I bet Faith's not too happy about that."

Angel grimaces.

"The only reason we got any information out of it is because of Faith. You should've seen what she did to the thing. Not very pretty."

"Wish I could've been there."

"She had everyone leave the room, but we could hear it screaming from outside. And when we went back in..." Angel shakes his head.

"Sounds pleasant."

"Oh, definitely."

"So when do I get to leave the bed?"

"If you're feeling okay, it should be fine. Willow put some ointment on the burns."

Buffy finally notices the bandages on the sides of her right arm and feels a thick pad on her neck.

"Oh wow. Didn't even realize."

"They were pretty light, thankfully. Good thing you had your jacket on, and that it didn't manage to hold onto you for more than a few seconds when it rushed you."

"Yea. Good thing." She repeats, sitting upright.

"Anything else I should keep an eye on?"

Angel stands up.

"Your head is probably still swollen; you fell on it pretty hard, but it should be alright."

"Mm. Well, thanks Angel." She says, swinging her legs over the side of the bed to get up.

"Don't thank me. Thank Faith."


End file.
